


i touched you but it starts to hurt

by OnyxSphinx



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Getting Together, Lars Gottlieb's A+ Parenting, M/M, Touch-Starved, i mean that fully sarcastically, that's hermann by the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23325355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphinx/pseuds/OnyxSphinx
Summary: Newt misses human contact. Hermann doesn't, or at least that's what Newt assumes at first
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	i touched you but it starts to hurt

**Author's Note:**

> YES i'm going to write touch starved hermann fic

“Are you fucking _kidding me?_ ” Newt half-shrieks, when he gets to the end of the email. “We’re being attacked by aliens and of all things, it’s a fucking _virus_ that shuts everything down?” He scowls at the monitor; snatches up one of the pens on his desk and clicks it in an attempt to let loose some of the tension.

Hermann, at his own desk, raises his brow. “I don’t see what you’re so concerned about,” he says, “really, all that’s changing is that we’ll have to gather in smaller groups and be more vigilant hygienically.”

Newt gives the pen an extra-hard click. “Dude,” he says, “this is going to suck so, so bad.”

The other gives a non-committal grunt. “Whatever you say, Newton.”

Two weeks in and Newt is absolutely, horribly right. 

With the distancing, he’s got, like, absolutely _no_ human contact from anyone else, which, honestly, sucks really really bad. He’s a tactile person, always has been, and going this long without it is extremely shitty. 

He finds himself with his skin feeling like it’s going to burst into flames and get frostbite at the same time, which is, honestly, not fun in the slightest.

Hermann, on the other hand, seems to be wholly unaffected—Newt has no clue _how_ ; he must just be better at hiding this than Newt is, because he’s _got_ to be feeling it as well. 

“Feeling…what?” Hermann asks, flatly.

They’re sprawled out on the lab sofa together; they’ve been working for hours and getting nowhere and neither of them have gotten, like, any actual _rest_ in the past two days, and Hermann’s head is tilted back, his eyes half-lidded; clothes and hair in various states of rumpledness.

Newt scoffs. “The ache?” he says, “like, uh—from not having any human touch? You know, ‘cause of the whole distancing thing?”

Case in point: they’re sitting on opposite ends of the sofa. Not six feet, but like, hey, they’re _trying_. “…ache,” Hermann repeats.

“Uh, yeah, for human contact?” Newt says; and tries not to feel like he’s talking to a little kid. Really, Hermann’s _got_ to know what he means. “I mean, before, I got it all the time with like, hugs and stuff, but now, I don’t…”

Hermann gives him a blank stare. “Is that not…normal?” he asks, tentatively.

“Not norm—Hermann,” Newt cuts himself off. “Are you…are you saying that the reason why you haven’t been affected is because you…you _always_ feel like this?”

“Do you _not?_ ” Hermann asks; and the way he says it, so puzzled, genuinely confused, is what breaks something in Newt. 

For a quick moment, Newt runs it through his mind—tries to remember any time he can that Hermann touched someone else, or someone else initiated physical contact with Hermann, not including handshakes, and comes up blank.

He gapes at Hermann. “Shit, dude,” he says, “you…you _live_ like this?”

Hermann tilts his head, as if wilting under Newt’s gaze. “…yes,” he says, finally, and then, as if trying to justify it, “hardly anyone seeks to initiate physical contact with me, and when they do, I don’t know how to—how to _react_ , you understand.”

But; god; it _explains_ some things, for sure. Newt had thought that Hermann just didn’t _like_ being touched by Newt, specifically, and so he’s kept the no-touching rule for the entire time they’ve worked together, but now, he realises, painfully, that’s not it; Hermann just isn’t _used_ to it.

Newt remembers, in a flash, their first meeting: running to pull Hermann into a hug, and Hermann flinching, freezing, at the touch; his face contorting into a nearly-pained expression. “Oh,” he says, softly. “Hermann…”

“It’s fine,” Hermann snaps.

It’s _not_ ; Newt knows it’s not, but he also senses that, right now, it’s better to not push anything; Hermann’s probably already feeling pretty vulnerable now that Newt _knows_ , and he doesn’t do well when he thinks that he might be seen as weak.

He wants to _talk_ about it, but…he also doesn’t want to make Hermann uncomfortable, so he changes the topic and rambles about the new kaiju skin samples he got from Lima the other day.

He means to talk to Hermann about it, after; once the distancing thing is over, but then there’s the whole, oh shit, we’re getting defunded, and then the _oh shit_ , this is our last chance, and, well, it kind of gets lost in all that.

* * *

Hermann’s holding him; that’s the first thing that Newt’s aware of when he comes, gasping, pained, out of the Drift which was, admittedly, okay, _admittedly_ a really, really stupid idea, yeah, yeah, okay, Hermann was right about _that_.

It gets forgotten pretty quickly in his attempts to tell the Marshal what he saw, and getting the brain, et cetera, but then he _Drifts_ , and with _Hermann_ , and—

“That was the first time.”

It’s a statement, not a question; and Hermann, leaning heavy on his cane, the two of them waiting for the helicopter to arrive and take the back to the shatterdome, nods. “Yes,” he says.

Yes; it was the first time he touched Newt.

Yes; it was the first time he touched someone first in a long, long, long time.

Yes; it—

Newt laughs; high and a little choked. “God,” he says. “Lars really did a number on you, huh?”

Hermann shrugs a single shoulder but doesn’t deny it. “I was just fine, in the end,” he says; and it sounds like he’s trying to justify it, and Newt scoffs.

“Dude,” he says; gentle; “because of his bullshit, you’ve been deprived of human touch almost your entire _life_. Do you—that’s—god,” he lets out a sharp breath; closes his eyes. When he opens them, there’s a—a _something_ on his tongue, but it’s cut short by the sound of chopper blades.

“We’d better get in,” Hermann shouts, over the _thwap-thwap-thwap_ of the blades; and Newt nods; follows after him.

The air whips around them, and Newt would feel cold; but right now, he can’t really feel _anything_.

Hermann, by his side, shifts a bit; gives him a tentative look, and then glances at the space between them; wordless. Newt nods.

With that, silently, Hermann shifts closer; not quite touching, not yet, but there’s barely an inch between them. He’s not ready yet, Newt knows, and that’s okay.

* * *

Around them, LOCCENT is filled with celebrating shatterdome personnel, and, in the commotion, Newt almost misses Hermann’s voice—does, actually miss it the first time.

“—on? May I hug you?”

Newt blinks. “Huh? Sorry,” he says, loudly; and then his brain processes it, matches the words to Hermann’s half-anxious expression. “Oh!” he says, “uh—yeah! I mean, if, uh, if you’re comfortable—”

Hermann snakes an arm over his shoulders.

It’s ungainly; unpracticed; but for what Newt knows is one of very, very few attempts, it’s fantastic, and for his first hug with _Hermann_ , it’s everything.

“Sorry,” Hermann whispers, “I’m not very good at this.”

“‘S fine,” Newt assures, “we can practice as many times as you want.”

That draws a tentative smile to his face. “Really?” he asks.

Newt nods. “Yeah,” he says, “I mean—we should probably go somewhere with less people, ‘cause I’m going to get a headache, but…yeah. However many times you want, I promise.”

Hermann lights up. “Alright,” he says, and breaks away; making a bee-line for the hallways, and Newt, after a moment, follows after him.

Surprisingly, they end up in Hermann’s room—Newt’s only been in here a few times; knows Hermann values his privacy, so when Hermann unlocks the door and pulls it open, he makes a small, startled sound before following after.

For a moment, they stand in the middle of the room; Hermann fiddles with the cuff of his sleeve, and then says, “You, er—you said…”

“Yeah,” Newt nods. “Yeah, um, go ahead.”

Hermann takes a breath; steps forward, and wraps his arms around Newt. Newt brings his own arms up to wrap around Hermann, and—and then, Hermann’s shaking.

It takes a moment to realise that he’s not upset—the tears that are wetting Newt’s shoulder are ones of happiness, and that, actually, makes Newt’s chest tighten even more. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, though who it’s for, he’s not quite sure. “It’s…it’s okay.”

After a few minutes, Hermann’s breathing settles. “You alright?” Newt asks, softly.

“Yes,” Hermann replies. “I…very much so.”

When he pulls away, he’s smiling widely, and the sight warms Newt; even moreso the fact that he knows Hermnan’s smiling because of _him_. God—he wants to make Hermann smile like that over and over again forever.

“Hermann,” he says, suddenly, “can I ask you something? Feel free to say no,” he adds.

Hermann nods. “Go ahead,” he says. “I trust you.”

Newt swallows thickly. “Can I kiss you?” he asks; managing to keep his voice steady. 

There’s a moment of silence, and then Hermann says, “I…yes, I think I’d like that.”

Newt grins. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.” And he kisses Hermann. 

It’s not long or terribly passionate; it’s not even really very good, because they both start smiling partway through, but—Hermann’s _smiling_ , and Hermann’s _kissing_ him _back_ , and that’s all that really matters, right now.

When Newt pulls away, Hermann’s looking a little dazed. “You okay?” Newt asks.

“I…yes,” Hermann says, after a moment. “Just—a little overwhelmed. Not, ah, not in a bad way,” he adds, as if anticipating that Newt might get worried about that.

Newt nods. “Okay,” he says, and takes a step back. The break of contact seems to settle Hermann a bit—he’s back with what he knows. “Okay,” he says, again; “whatever you feel comfortable with.”

Hermann smiles. “Can I…can I hug you again?” he asks, after a beat; and Newt smiles.

“‘Course,” he says.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at [autisticharrow](https://autisticharrow.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
